Moose's prison Journal

Overview
The journal that moose has kept and mixed up in prison. Page 1 of 13

Day 1:

I was found. I don't fully understand how, but I was found by Nick.

He told me everyone want[s/ed] me dead.

Rightfully so, but I don't plan on dying anytime soon. I have unfinished business. I need to fulfill a

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promise. My newfound "purpose."

Hopefully I can stay sane for however long I will stay here. I don't want to lose control again.

And I also doubt anyone will visit me without the intent to kill me. If I do get a visitor, I need to be

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careful. For both [of] our sakes.

Day 2:

I can hear it calling out to me.

I can feel it reaching out for me.

It didn't forget about me. It doesn't care about what I've done.

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I don't know if I can resist it. What it wants is what I want deep down.

I am a monster, and it sees me as such.

I can already feel my sanity slipping. I was fine in exile. This is different. I have nothing to do but think and write. Alone.

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None of the ghosts know where I am, except for that damn scientist.

The more I think about him, the more I wish I could tear him apart, limb from limb, muscle from muscle, until he is nothing but a BLOODY PILE OF-

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But I can't. He's a ghost now. From what I can tell, there isn't a way to harm him anymore. Hopefully I can get out of here soon. I'm beginning to hunger again.

I know better than to ignore it this time.

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Day 3:

I'm starting to hear whispers. Not like the whispers of the crystal. These are different, like they're trying to talk to me.

I also occasionally see things. Little orbs floating around me, but they disappear fairly quickly. Page 8 of 13

Who knows? Maybe I've already lost my mind and I just can't tell.

No one has come back for me yet. At this point, I don't know if anyone else knows I'm even here.

This might be a trap to keep me locked up until I die or someone else takes my place.

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I might be here forever.

Alone. Abandoned. Waiting for someone to rescue me.

But help may never come.

They probably don't even want to help me anymore.

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The hunger is getting worse. The longer I stay here, the more it grows.

I need to get out. I need to feast. I need flesh.

Hopefully I haven't been forgotten. The silence of this prison is truly deafening.

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Day 4:

How could I forget? I wasn't put in here by a prison guard. And the people who know I'm here can't say anything or else they'll put themselves in danger.

Great. This may have been a trap after all. Page 12 of 13

How will anyone else know that I'm down here? I could yell for help, but my voice wouldn't be able to escape this prison, just like me. Even if someone heard me, knowing that it's me would just drive them away.

I need to think. There must be a way, right?

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DON'T TRUST THE DARK OAK GHOST.